She would never admit it, even to Mitchell, but her cast-iron stomach was an illusion, just like the fragile veneer that hid her desolation. Her insides were still recoiling from the smell, and she would have liked nothing better than to join the young patrolman throwing up at the corner of the house, their smirking comrades be damned.

But instead she swallowed the bile in her throat and squared her shoulders as she walked across the yard. The sick officer looked up in embarrassment as he wiped a hand across his mouth.

“Here.” Evangeline handed him what was left of her Dr Pepper. “It’ll help a little.”

He took the drink with a shaking hand and held the cold can to his face. “Thanks.”

“Softy,” Mitchell teased as they climbed the porch steps.

“Shush. Someone might hear you.”

“And wouldn’t that be a shame?” He paused, as if bracing himself before they entered the house. “You ever think about getting out of this racket, Evie?”

“At times like this, yeah.”

“I’ve told you about my uncle, right?”

“The one who owns the security firm in Houston?”

“He’s getting on in years and he needs somebody he can trust to put in charge of his operation.”

“Meaning you?”

“That’s the plan. You play your cards right, there might be a place in Houston for you, too.”

Evangeline sighed. “It’s a nice thought, but I have too many ties here. I’m not going anywhere.”

Not to Houston, anyway. It was hotter than hell in Houston, just like in New Orleans.

If I move anywhere, it’ll be to someplace with snow, she thought wistfully as sweat trickled down her back.

“Just give it some thought is all I’m saying.”

“You’re like a dog with a bone,” she grumbled.

“I’m trying to look out for you, kiddo. A city like Houston has a lot to offer a smart gal like you. Might be a good place for you and J.D. to start over.”